


Opia

by swamp_adder



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Family, Feelings Jams, Gen, Mentions of Davekat, Pale Romance, Post-Game, Smarm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swamp_adder/pseuds/swamp_adder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the game, Dave and Dirk slowly begin figuring out who they are to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opia

**Author's Note:**

> Opia  
>  _n._ the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable

It's been over a week since the game ended -- since you found yourselves flung into a brand new universe, with a whole empty planet Earth to build your futures on -- and you still can't quite believe it's over.  You can say goodbye permanently to that dank meteor.  And, supposedly, to a whole crapload of bad guys you all just killed the shit out of.  Even though the final battle was grueling, and there were more than a few heart-stopping moments when you were convinced that you and everyone you cared about was going to die, some part of you feels like it was almost too easy -- can't quite believe that you're _done_ , you've fought off all the monsters, and you won't ever have to pick up another shitty sword, Welsh or otherwise, for the rest of your (God Tier enhanced) life.

The experience of settling into your new home is a confusing blend of nostalgia and jarring novelty.  You're back on Earth again, but it's an Earth devoid of civilization.  You're staying in your old apartment, transplanted from LOHAC (you lopped off most of the towering edifice, keeping only a few extra floors), but this time your troll boyfriend is living there with you.  Your Bro is back -- only he's not actually your Bro, but a teenaged double whom you actually (to your own unceasing astonishment) kind of _like_.

Once you've realized he's not actually the same person as Bro, Dirk has quickly become an object of intense curiosity to you.  This person who's both so like and so unlike your guardian is now a puzzle you're keen to unlock.  You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick -- examine all the circuitry that makes him up, and figure out which parts are the same and which are different.

Yet it seems there's still an unconscious part of your brain that struggles to see Dirk as a separate person from Bro, and which makes it hard at times to interact with him normally.  When he appears suddenly where you didn't expect him (which is not infrequently -- he's just as skilled at silent flash-stepping as his other self ever was) it makes you jump and sets your heart racing.  Sometimes it's stupid little things -- the way he absently drums his fingers when he's bored, or bites his lip when he's thinking, or any of a million other gestures or quirks of body language that are familiar in a way you can't quite put into words, but which make your stomach twist anxiously whenever they creep into the periphery of your awareness.

It can be hard to keep your cool around Dirk when everything he does seems to evoke such extreme emotional reactions in you.  One minute you seem to see a miniature Bro beside you and every instinct is screaming at you to _run_ ; the next he's offering you a hesitant smile or snorting over one of your dumb doodles and you just want to hug him.  (Sometimes you _do_ hug him -- weirdly, he's one of the few people besides Karkat and the Mayor you occasionally feel comfortable getting physically affectionate with.)  Sometimes, when the emotional whiplash gets too intense, you make an excuse and leave -- usually to a secluded place where you can breathe slowly for a few minutes and recover.  You hope it isn't too obvious to Dirk when you're leaving to get away from him.  You like the guy and you want to spend time with him -- it's just that sometimes there's only so much of him you can take at once.

You'd be surprised if he doesn't have some inkling of what's going on with you, though.  The guy is strikingly observant, especially where you're concerned.  He certainly notices your frequent jumpiness around him (he could hardly fail to), and tries to adapt his behavior to make you more comfortable.  After helping you clean up a shattered glass of AJ from the floor of your kitchen while apologizing profusely (you had been holding it in your hand until he appeared out of nowhere like a fucking ninja and practically gave you a heart attack), you notice that he takes care to move more slowly around you, and to make some sound as he approaches so as not to startle you.

While his awareness of your weakness is embarrassing, his sensitivity to your feelings is sort of nice... most of the time.  At other times, it can be nearly as burdensome as anything else.  Dirk tries to act cool about it but he obviously cares a great deal what you think of him, and his sensitivity toward you isn't so much because he's a naturally sensitive person as it is because he's worried about fucking things up with you.  In a way he reminds you of Karkat, not that that's a comparison you'd have ever expected to make:  they're both painfully insecure and desperate for your attention.  Dirk at least is a little better at hiding it and acting chill, for which you're grateful; one neurotically clingy asshole in your life is about all you can handle.

One afternoon you're chillin' on the hillside next to the top half of your apartment building when you hear a twig crack behind you.  You whip around and start violently -- but of course it's not Bro, it's just Dirk, it's always Dirk, you just didn't hear him coming over the sound of the wind.  Your heart's still going a mile a minute.

"Hey."  You nod in a gesture at nonchalance, as he approaches and cautiously sits beside you.  "Just thought you were my Bro for a second," you explain with an awkward laugh.

"Sorry," says Dirk self-consciously, crossing his arms over his knees.  "You know," he says hesitantly after a moment of uneasy silence, "if, um.  If I make you uncomfortable or something, we, uh... we really don't have to keep hanging out.  It's -- "

"It's fine," you say quickly.  "It's not... you just look like him is all.  I mean it'll take some getting used to.  It's mostly the shades, I think," you add as an afterthought.

He immediately takes them off.  "How's this?"

You look at his face again.  You stare.

"... I didn't know your eyes were that color," you admit after a long pause.  "I mean, I guess I don't really remember ever seeing my Bro without the glasses on."

Dirk nods.  "Yeah, I never saw my Bro's eyes either.  Could never find a picture where they weren't covered."

You slowly reach up and remove your own eyewear, then meet his gaze again.  Without your shades you feel oddly naked; you're uncomfortably aware that no one except Karkat has ever seen you like this.  You're tempted to crack a joke to dispel the awkward intimacy of the moment, but Dirk speaks first.

"Interesting color," he comments.

"Yeah, we're all freaks of nature," you reply with a brief grin.  "Hell, as far as I understand it we might not even technically be human.  Since we were, like... grown from our own private paradoxical slime gene pool and all.  But don't quote me on that, I'm no ectobiologist."

"No, that sounds about right," says Dirk.  He glances away for a moment, apparently also finding the prolonged eye contact uncomfortably intense, and you take the opportunity to examine his face closely again while he isn't looking.  Without the glasses it's suddenly much more obvious how much _younger_ he is than his other self.  He doesn't look like a rad badass ninja bro now. He just looks like a kid. The lines of his face seem softer, and he looks strangely vulnerable, even... innocent.

Which is a ridiculous thing to think.  You're certain "innocent" is the last word Dirk would use to describe himself.  But -- you remind yourself -- compared to Bro, he _is_.

"You... really do look different from him without the shades on," you observe carefully, before quickly adding:  "I'm sure it won't take me too long to get used to your usual look, though."

"Hey, it's no problem," he says easily.  "If the shades bother you, I don't have to wear them anymore."

"Um... thanks," you stammer; his consideration for your feelings still constantly takes you by surprise.  "I'd say I'll stop wearing mine too," you add after a minute, "but I have kind of a sentimental attachment to these shades on account of them being a gift from John."

"That's fine," he says.  "I mean I don't have any negative associations with them or anything like that, so it's cool for you to do whatever."

"Maybe I'll stop being so obsessive about keeping the damn things on my face every fucking second, though," you add.  "Which was kind of a dumb thing to do in the first place I guess."

His mouth cracks into a brief grin, and somehow his whole face looks much more alive than it did with the glasses concealing it.  You can see the smile reach his eyes.

Dirk's friends all make a big show of astonishment when he shows up later on without his trademark anime shades, but he coolly shrugs it off and just says he wanted to "try on a new look".  You're not sure if any of them genuinely buy this explanation, but aside from a few raised eyebrows nobody presses him on it.

For your part, you have to admit his "new look" is a relief.  You no longer mistake him for your Bro nearly so often, and you're able to relax a bit more easily in his company.  In retrospect, at least part of your anxiety around him might have stemmed from your difficulty in reading his expression -- maybe it reminded you of trying vainly to predict your Bro's moods and behavior, a necessary survival skill throughout most of your childhood.  Without the shades in the way, though, it becomes much more obvious how expressive Dirk actually _is_ compared to his counterpart.

Bro's face was like stone:  you never caught a flicker of emotion from him.  Dirk's expressions might be subtle compared to your other friends', but they're undeniably there -- and they make him look like a completely different person from Bro despite the superficial resemblance.  It almost takes you by surprise sometimes when you crack a joke and he snorts in response.  Or when you catch that momentary flicker of a smile crossing his features.  After a lifetime of Bro completely ignoring your existence a solid 80% of the time, it's strange watching Dirk visibly react to the things you say and do -- to realize that he's paying attention, that your thoughts and opinions _matter_ to him, that your actions have some kind of an effect on him, as they never seemed to have on his other self.  It makes you want to prod at him a little -- see what other responses you can provoke in him.  You restrain yourself.  He's a person with real feelings, not a specimen for you to experiment on.

Sometimes, though, the level of attention Dirk pays to you can become almost unsettling.  One of Bro's more striking characteristics that clearly _is_ reflected in Dirk is his intense _focus_ \-- his ability to become obsessively and almost single-mindedly absorbed in a subject once it's captured his interest.  You can't, however, recall your Bro ever directing that focus on _you_.  Dirk is a different story:  his piercing gaze, no longer masked by his ironic anime shades, makes you feel at times as if he's staring straight into your soul (and given his aspect, you sometimes wonder if he _isn't_ ).  It's a peculiar experience, and not an entirely comfortable one, to find yourself the object of such keen scrutiny.

Not that Dirk's attitude toward you is judgmental or critical; on the contrary, he seems to hold you in very high esteem.  His apartment walls are covered in posters from other-you's movies.  He has a fucking _Hella Jeff tattoo_ , which he apparently applied himself when he was like ten.  He clearly sees you as an avatar for his deceased parental figure, and he's endlessly curious about your thoughts, your interests, your creative projects.  Though in some ways his admiration is flattering, mostly you're just overwhelmingly aware of all the expectations he has of you -- expectations you feel you're certain to fall short of.  You constantly feel as if he's examining everything you do and comparing it against his knowledge of his own Bro -- filtered heavily through the lens of his hero-worship toward the man -- and you can't escape a certain anxiety that you're going to suffer by the comparison.

When you show him your crappy comics from three years ago he lights up in fascination.  He shows you the version of SBAHJ your alt-self produced, and points out every miniscule difference between the two -- stuff you wouldn't have noticed in a million years, like subtle variations in the jpeg artifacts in one panel.  Clearly the amount of effort he's put into scrutinizing your artistic choices far surpasses the effort you put into making them.  And it takes only a little prompting to make him pour forth all his _theories_ about your work -- dissertations about how this or that is a subtle critique of modern consumerism or formalist aesthetics or what have you.  He's a little hesitant at first but when you show interest in his ideas he soon becomes enthusiastic.  He's obviously never had anybody to talk about this stuff with before, except maybe his AI brain clone (the mere existence of which still makes you "wtf" a little every time you think about it).

You have no fucking clue what he's talking about.  Some of the things he says make sense to you and you guess, yeah, maybe you were sort of doing those things, even if you wouldn't have phrased it in such esoteric terms.  Most of it, though, is just way beyond you.  When try to you tell him that, though -- that his theories are interesting and you can see where he's coming from but really you were just making some dumb comics for the lulz -- he doesn't seem fazed by it at all.  He just nods thoughtfully and says, "Well, you know, a lot of great artists work instinctively, without full awareness of the workings of their own genius.  In fact it's been argued by some that that's the _only_ way real art happens.  But regardless, I think that might be the case for you.  Sort of an unconscious thing."

You still aren't convinced that you're any kind of an artist, let alone a "great" one, but what the hell.  It's obviously important to Dirk to view you that way.  Rose would probably say that his theories about your work are really more about him than they are about you, and thinking about it that way eases your mind a little.

Many of these conversations take place one-on-one, which you never really insisted on, but Karkat always seems to sense when you and Dirk are about to have a "moment" and carefully makes himself scarce.  It's the first time since your friendship on the meteor began that he hasn't had your attention pretty much to himself, and you can tell he's a little anxious about this disruption of the status quo -- which is maybe why he and Dirk always act so stilted and awkward around each other.  You'd like them to get to know each other eventually, but you don't want to force it; and anyway, you do appreciate the frequent alone time with Dirk.  It's made it easier for you to open up to each other, something that doesn't exactly come naturally to either of you.

Though Dirk obviously wants to know more about your life, your background, your inner thoughts, he's careful not to pry, and keeps most of his questions focused on your creative work.  You don't actually care about keeping secrets from him, though -- why bother when you already poured out your fucking soul to him the first time you met? -- and you often find your initially-superficial conversations unexpectedly turning into more personal ones.  You're equally curious about him, and equally reluctant to interrogate him directly, especially about sensitive subjects like his recent breakup.  Inevitably, though, even that topic eventually finds its way into your conversation.

You're chilling together in your apartment one afternoon (you mostly use your apartment for hangouts, because to be honest Dirk's place still gives you the creeps a little -- too much of the shit he keeps in there, puppetry-related and otherwise, reminds you too strongly of Bro) when the topic comes around to the "surprise party" Roxy's arranging for John and Jane.  Their actual birthday was of course over a week ago now, but since their opportunities for celebration were cut short by involuntary retcon odysseys and magic candy intoxication respectively, it seems like a decent idea to have a redo.  Everyone's supposed to be showing up (even Terezi and Vriska, who pretty much fucked off together into the wild blue yonder a week ago and haven't been seen since), so it'll be the first time the whole gang's been gathered in one place since the game ended.  Which is why you're surprised when Dirk confesses that he's considering skipping the party.

"How come?" you ask him.

"It's just..." he hesitates.  "Jake will be there.  And like I said before, I'm... kind of trying to keep my distance for a while."

"Huh."  You consider this, then ask cautiously:  "Do you... think he'd mind you being there?"

"I'm... not really sure," he admits after a pause.

An awkward silence falls as you contemplate this non-answer.  You finally break it by asking:  "Sorry if this is too nosy a question, but have you actually, like... talked to him at all, since your -- uh -- fight or whatever?"

"It's not too nosy," he says, looking almost relieved that you've handed him an opportunity to spill his guts on the topic.  "Honestly it's kind of easier talking about this stuff with you because you're a relative stranger to both of us.  Or, not exactly a stranger, but like... you don't really have any emotional involvement in the whole clusterfuck.  Anyway, yeah, I sent him this whole big rambling apology through Pesterchum.  And then he tried to apologize to _me_ for some shit I had assholishly accused him of earlier, which was bullshit by the way, but anyway, long story short, he said he wanted us to be friends again because he's just this huge naïve idiot who forgives people way too easily.  I said I didn't really feel comfortable with that, at least not right away, sorry it's not you it's me, etc. etc. blah blah blah."  He draws a breath.  "So yeah.  I don't know if he genuinely would be cool with hanging out again, or if he's just pretending to be okay with it because he's a self-sacrificing doormat and he wants to be nice to me at the expense of his own feelings.  So I figured the safest thing is for me to just take the initiative on the 'staying away from each other' front.  Probably for a long while, so he has some time to, like... get detached from me a little.  Find a new best bro or whatever.  You know."  He bravely tries for a philosophical tone on the last bit but mostly just sounds depressed.

"Okay," you say, taking a minute to process this monologue.  "How do _you_ feel about it, though?  If you don't mind my asking."

"About what?" he asks, surprised.

"About showing up at the party and seeing him there.  Or just sharing space with him in general.  Would it bother you?"

"No," he says immediately.  "I was the one at fault, not him.  I don't blame him for anything."

"Well I mean people can have raw emotions after a breakup regardless of whose 'fault' it was.  It wouldn't be weird for you not to want to be around him, even if you don't hold him responsible for anything."

"Oh.  Yeah, I guess.  But I think I could handle being in the same room with him for a few hours eating cake and playing video games and shit.  It's his feelings I'm concerned about.  I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable.  I'm not sure how to tell the others I'm not coming, though.  I don't want to make things weird for Jake, or imply that he 'made' me stay away.  And I can't think of any good excuses -- there's nothing I could plausibly be so busy doing that it would force me to miss, like... the only actual social occasion happening in the entire fucking world."

"Hm."  You look at him for a moment, then ask carefully:  "Do you want my advice?"

"Sure."  He says it with a shrug and a deliberately casual tone that can't quite conceal the underlying rapt attention.  You get the strong impression that he brought up the topic in the first place because he was hoping to get your take on it.

"I think you should come."  He looks at you quizzically.  You shrug.  "It sounds like you talked to him and he said he wouldn't mind having some contact with you again.  I mean, maybe that's not true, maybe he was only saying it to be nice.  But... ultimately I think in most cases you have to just take people at their word.  You've made it clear that you'll respect his boundaries and keep your distance if he wants you to, right?  So now it's on him to ask for that, if it's what he wants.  And if he doesn't ask you to avoid him, I think it's okay for you to just assume he doesn't give a shit."

"Jake has a really hard time asking for what he wants, though," Dirk objects.  "Maybe especially around me, since I spent so many years bullying him into shit and I think eventually he just came to accept that I was always going to get my way and there was no point in arguing.  So I don't think it's safe for me to assume he doesn't care about something just because he's being passive about it."

"Well, maybe.  But if he has a hard time standing up for himself, maybe that's all the more reason to stand back and let him do it?  How's he ever going to learn assertiveness if you keep making decisions like this for him?  To be honest, it sounds to me like he _is_ telling you what he wants, and you're just ignoring it because you think you know how he feels better than he does.  If you want to stop relating to him that way -- like, where you're really pushy and he just acquiesces to whatever you want -- then actually listening to what he says and believing it might be a good start."  You suddenly feel embarrassed at having offered up your judgment so bluntly, and backpedal a little.  "I mean... I guess that's my advice, for... whatever it's worth.  Which probably isn't much.  Rose is the damn therapist, not me."

Dirk looks like he's seriously considering what you said, though.  "No, I... I guess that makes sense.  You're probably right.  Um, thanks.  I mean... really, thanks for listening to all that.  And for giving me another perspective.  I didn't really want to bother you about it, I just... didn't have anyone else, um, 'unbiased' to discuss it with."

"No problem.  I mean I know I said before that we shouldn't ask each other about 'personal' shit but if you _want_ to talk about it, that's fine.  I can't promise my input will actually be worth hearing, but..."

"Thanks.  I don't know if I actually want to dump any more of my issues on you, though.  I think that might be kind of... inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?  Why?  I mean, I did kind of dump my entire catalog of issues on _you_ the first time we met.  Any time you want to do some reciprocal issue-dumping, I'm totally down for returning the favor."

"Well sure, but that was kind of different.  I mean, since all your issues are basically my fault."

"Nah, bro."  Somehow, calling Dirk "bro" isn't weird when you use the word generically as you would toward John or Karkat.  It's not the same as calling him Bro.  "None of that shit was your fault and it was really cool of you to let me rant at you about it.  So I'm fine with listening to your own rants or problems or whatever -- I mean, not just because I owe you one but because, um... you're just a good guy and I kinda like you.  I guess."  Your face is hot.  That was a dumb thing to say.

"Um... okay," Dirk says, looking away awkwardly. But you think you catch a faint glimpse of a smile.

Dirk does show up to the Egbert-Crocker celebration, and he stops obsessively avoiding all interaction with Jake, at least in group settings.  You can still sense a hint of strain between them, but they both seem to be trying their best to put whatever conflict happened behind them and resume a friendly acquaintanceship at least, if not quite a friendship.  Dirk doesn't feel comfortable yet with anything closer than that.  After that conversation, though, he starts coming to you for advice on stuff more often -- hesitantly at first, but eventually more openly.  Usually it's about situations involving his friends -- wanting to know if he's treating them right or being an unintentional douche.  You try your best to give him useful advice, while constantly disclaiming that you're no social skills guru.  You kind of think the guy is a little overly paranoid about his own capacity to destroy everyone he touches, but hey -- you weren't there, and you still don't know exactly what all went down between him and Jake or any of the others.

Besides which, you have to admit that your view of Dirk is hardly unbiased:  you can't help constantly comparing him to Bro and being blown away by how much better he is in every conceivable way.  No matter how often you tell yourself that "better than Bro" is hardly a difficult bar to clear; that you should probably be more cautious about trusting this guy whom you've just met and who keeps _telling_ you that he's a bad person and a bad influence; that deliberately making yourself vulnerable to someone you have so many reasons to be suspicious of cannot possibly be a wise decision... you can't seem to stop yourself from quickly growing attached to him.   _Frighteningly_ quickly, you acknowledge on the rare occasion you manage to subject your feelings to something resembling an objective assessment.  This pathological tendency to grasp desperately at any shred of affection you're offered -- no matter how dubious the source -- is going to fuck you over one day, you're pretty sure.  But Dirk's devoted attentiveness to you feels so good that you can't bring yourself to reject it.

One night you're hanging out at Dirk's place for the purpose of watching another of other-you's SBAHJ films.  Dirk has cleared all the weird puppet crap out of the living room so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities, and it really doesn't look that different now from your own place.  Well, obviously, since they are in fact literally the same apartment.

Dirk emerges from the kitchen with a bag of chips and some bottles of soda and apple juice, which he places on the coffee table.  You scoot over on the couch to make room for him.  "Thanks," he says as he sits next to you.  He has a habit of constantly thanking you for every tiny favor, as if continually amazed and grateful that you're willing to so much as lift a finger for him after the stuff his other self did.

"So what's on the schedule tonight?" you ask.

"I was thinking of _SBAHJ the the Film_ ," he says.  "It's the next in the series -- well, technically, it and _the Movle_ were released at the same time in different theaters, or sometimes even on different screens in the same theater.  The advertising and ticket purchase information was inconsistent and frequently inaccurate, so somebody who bought a ticket to one might end up seeing the other instead.  But some internal documents indicate that filming for _the the Film_ started first, so most enthusiasts order it before _the Movle_.  We could skip around, though, if you want, and watch something from later in the series.  Some consider watching them in a random order to be part of the essential SBAHJ experience."

"Nah, I'm fine with seeing this one.  If I understand my other self -- and I'm pretty sure I do -- he wouldn't have given a shit about the ordering."

"Probably not," Dirk agrees.  "The main advantage to watching them in production order is the glimpse it allows into the evolution of his campaign against the Condesce, and how his opposition to her became more overt over time.  And also into the evolution of other aspects of his artistic method.  For example, as a bit of continuity trivia, this film features the introduction of the character Chill Babe, supposedly as a love interest for Sweet Bro although the two never actually interact onscreen at any point in this or any other film in the series."

"Oh man, this movie has romance in it?  Karkat is gonna be _pissed_ that we didn't invite him."

Dirk snorts, and then looks uncertain.  "I mean, we could have invited him.  I didn't think -- "

"Nah man, I was kidding.  Karkat would hate these movies, he'd spend the whole time screaming obscenities at the screen.  I mean, not that that wouldn't be pretty funny to witness at some point, but I'd rather see them for the first time with just you if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course.  I just want to make sure... I don't know the guy as well as you do, obviously, but sometimes I get the impression that he, well... you don't think he feels left out or anything?"

"Like, jealous?"  You shrug.  "Karkat's a clingy neurotic mess but he'll get used to me having other people in my life eventually.  Even people I want to occasionally have some one-on-one time with.  I guess maybe he's also kind of jealous of me for getting to have a dancestor who isn't a smug insufferable douchewad, but hey.  Such is the luck of the dancestor draw, and of paradox space's shitty sense of humor."

"Well," he says with a small ironic smile, "leaving the assertion that I'm _not_ a smug insufferable douchewad aside... are you sure it's cool?  I mean I think it's great you want to hang out with me this much -- honestly I do -- but not if it's going to cause problems with your SO."

"Dude.  Chill.  You and me having some quality bro time is not going to destroy my relationship with Karkat.  And anyway, how I handle things with him is between the two of us.  I really don't need you to manage my love life for me, okay?"

Dirk huffs air out in a long sigh.  "You're right, it's none of my business.  That was inappropriate of me, sorry."

"It's cool."

"I guess I just sympathize with his neediness a little too much.  For reasons that are, uh... probably not good ones."

"Well, don't worry about it.  Karkat will be fine -- he'll figure out he has other friends now too and we don't really have to stay glued to each other 24/7 anymore.  Hell, the whole 'having multiple important relationships' thing is supposed to be even more normal for trolls than it is for us."  You laugh.  "Actually I think he's starting to figure that part out already, given something he said to me the other day -- apparently he's managed to convince himself now that you and I are _together_ in the fucking pale quadrant."

Dirk blinks.  "What?"

"I just mentioned to him some of the stuff we'd been talking about," you explain.  "Not the specifics, but just that you'd been asking me for some pointers on How Not to Be an Asshole 101."  You laugh a little self-consciously.  "Not that I'm any kind of an expert on that.  Also he, uh... happened to spot us getting a little cuddly at some point and jumped to a few conclusions.  Actually he called it 'obvious' and 'textbook palerom' and expressed incredulity that neither of us had figured it out."  You laugh again, and shake your head.  "Trolls, man."

Dirk snorts, but then looks thoughtful.  "Well, I can kind of see his point.  Not that I'm any kind of expert on troll romance -- in fact, I'd wager you know a good deal more about it than I do..."

You shrug.  "A lot of Karkat's rambling on the topic over the years went in one ear and out the other, but yeah, I guess some of it's managed to stick."

"Yeah.  But anyway, I guess from his perspective our relationship does kind of resemble what trolls would call a moirallegiance.  Or the beginnings of one, anyway.  It's an interesting perspective."

You shrug.  "I guess.  Mostly I think it's just Karkat's jealous insecurity over whatever the hell is going on between us talking.  I mean family relationships and their theoretical importance aren't really a thing trolls can intuitively grok, so I guess he's trying to deal with it by sort of... shoving it into a box he _can_ understand."

"Maybe.  In any case I don't think having an actual relationship of that type -- with anyone -- would be a very good idea.  I mean... correct me if I'm wrong... it's all about one partner basically being responsible for keeping the other's shit under control, right?  And maybe that works for trolls because of their different biology or brain chemistry or something, but I don't think I'd ever want someone involved with me such that if I fuck up it's somehow their _fault,_ for not doing their job right or whatever.  It's nice to have help -- or, like, guidance, I guess -- but ultimately the only person responsible for my actions is me."

"Yeah, I think that's a pretty good attitude to have," you say.  "I mean I think trolls themselves all have different ideas about what an ideal moirailship is really like, anyway.  Karkat could probably talk your ear off about the different cultural perceptions of how it's supposed to work, for all the quadrants really."

"I mean," he continues, "don't get me wrong, I can see the merit in the idea.  I definitely think I owe my present non-terribleness largely to my relationships with other people.  Learning about... my other self really opened my eyes to the fact that my natural tendency, when left to my own devices, is to be pretty much irredeemably awful, and that it's only due to luck and to the positive influence of my friends and of you -- of my Bro I mean -- that I've managed to avoid becoming a complete monster.  And I am immensely grateful to the people in my life who've managed to -- to save me from myself.  But even so, my reciprocal effect on them has largely been a negative one, and I could never ask someone to take on my moral improvement as some kind of personal responsibility."

You gaze at Dirk's serious face, struck again by the utter sincerity in his delivery of this somewhat melodramatic soliloquy.  Could your Bro once have been this earnest boy in front of you? you wonder for the millionth time.  Or was his heart already cold and hard at age sixteen?  Was this kid still trapped somewhere inside him?  What went wrong to turn him so fucking callous?

You'll never know exactly why Bro turned out the way he did, but you do know one thing:  whatever it was, you can't let it happen to Dirk.  Whatever problems he might have, Dirk has been nothing but kind and gentle and thoughtful to you and you couldn't stand to see the good person he is twisted into something awful.  You have to protect him from that.  Both for your own sake, and for his.

Shit.  Maybe you are pale for him after all.

You carefully take Dirk's hand in yours and give it a reassuring squeeze.  "Hey man, how about this.  If I promise I'll give you a heads up if I ever think you've been an asshole, will you try to relax a little and stop beating yourself up all the time?"

Dirk blushes.  "Sorry.  I'll try to tone down the neurotic self-deprecation, I get that it's probably pretty irritating."

"It's not exactly irritating, it's just... critical self-reflection is one thing, but you're really damn harsh with yourself to the point where I'm not exactly sure how helpful it is to you or to anyone else."

"Yeah, maybe."  He smiles wryly.  "I guess I just figure... given my past fuckups... I'd rather err on the side of being too hard on myself than too easy.  You know?  I want to make sure I don't repeat the same mistakes."

"Yeah, I get that.  That's why I'm offering to, like... keep an eye on you and let you know if I think you've fucked something up.  So you won't have to run yourself ragged all the time trying to be your own judge jury and executioner.  I dunno.  Just thought I'd volunteer the idea if... if you think it's something that might help."

You're not at all sure if extending this offer is the right thing to do.  All talk of moirallegiance aside, you know Dirk trusts your judgment largely because he still sees you as some kind of parental figure.  He grew up, you've come to realize, without any sort of adult guardian to set limits on his behavior.  Now he feels like he's made a hash of things by relying on his own judgment, and what he really wants is a strong authority figure to take charge of his life and tell him what to do.  Daddy issues up the wazoo in this bitch.

You also know that you're not actually the parental figure he craves -- you're just a dumbass kid, you're not particularly wise or insightful, and you're not at all sure if playing along with his deferential attitude toward you, much less _encouraging_ it, is a good idea.

But he _does_ trust you.  And you're not sure, but you have a feeling that learning how to trust in the judgment of somebody outside of himself is something that could be important for _him_ , and could help him, regardless of whether or not you're actually worthy of that trust.

Apparently you've decided to take that chance.

"It's kind of you to offer," says Dirk when he finds his voice again, "but I can't accept.  Like I said, I can't make another person responsible for all of my shit."

"I'm not trying to take responsibility for your shit," you tell him patiently.  "I'm just offering to help you out a little."

He shakes his head firmly.  "No.  I won't burden you with my problems any more than I already have.  Which is probably too much, in all honesty."

"Hey.  Look."  You wait until he reluctantly raises his head, then gaze directly into his tangerine eyes.  "Do you trust me?"  It's a dirty trick, but it's one you suspect he won't prove resistant to.

He swallows, unable to break eye contact.  "Yeah," he admits finally, the word unwillingly torn from him after moments of silent internal struggle, and you marvel that he can claim he _trusts_ you when he barely even knows you.  But you know he's telling the truth.

"Then trust me when I say that I want to help you, if I can, and it won't be a burden on me.  And if it is," you add lightly, "I'll tell you."  You hesitate a moment, then carefully put your arm around his shoulders, like you think maybe a proper paternal mentor-figure would do.  "You know, you don't actually have to do everything by yourself."

He finally crumbles.  "I... I think I would like that.  Having an objective third party I could trust to give me second opinion, so I wouldn't have to keep second-guessing _myself_ constantly... it would really take a load off my mind.  It would help a lot, I think, if... if you're actually willing to do that."

"It's no problem.  If anything it's kind of cathartic having a version of my Bro around who actually appreciates my criticism."

He cracks a grin, then quickly adds:  "Of course, this doesn't mean I'm holding you responsible for any of my choices or actions.  My fuckups are still my own.  And if you get tired of being my surrogate conscience you can quit any time, no pressure."

"Sure."

"And also... thanks."  He looks thoughtfully at your hand, still clasping his shoulder.  "Sorry if this is annoyingly maudlin of me, but I think you're a really exceptional sort of person.  I think it's pretty incredible that you're able to be so generous with me after the experiences you had with my other self.  It takes a particular kind of strength of character to be that forgiving."  He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment.  "You know, you actually remind me of Roxy in a lot of ways.  Which, just so you know, is one of the highest compliments I'm capable of giving."

Your face is burning.  This _is_ a lot of maudlin bullshit.  You quickly pull Dirk into a hug to shut him up.

He instantly reciprocates, pulling you close.  You're not sure if this is what having a moirail feels like -- or what having a brother feels like, for that matter.  You've found it strange trying to think of Dirk as your brother, since you've never had any positive associations with that term before.  You're sure it's fucked up that you find it easier to relate to him through an alien concept like moirallegiance than through the human concept of brotherhood.  You're not sure if you care.


End file.
